


Through the Looking Glasses

by Rachie_Boo123



Category: Rhett & Link
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Girlfriends/No Wives, Established Relationship, Feelings, Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, Mythical Secret Santa 2019, Prompt Fill, fandom wishlist
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-27 01:21:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21759112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rachie_Boo123/pseuds/Rachie_Boo123
Summary: Prompt: Rhett gets glassesRhett doesn’t want to say it. Not because he thinks Link will judge him, he never has in all their years and he trusts him above everyone else, but because he feels stupid. He knows it’s nothing to be concerned about and it’s so superficial he feels like a moron. But he can’t help it.He doesn’t want to feel old.
Relationships: Rhett McLaughlin/Link Neal
Comments: 4
Kudos: 39
Collections: Mythical Secret Santa 2019





	Through the Looking Glasses

**Author's Note:**

> I took the prompt and ran with it to make it an emotional rollercoaster. This is my first RandL fic, I hope you all enjoy!
> 
> Happy Holidays

“Do you have any idea what this says?” The taller one asks, eyes squinting and phone millimeters from his face.

Link leans over, his shoulder brushing against Rhett’s until he is basically cheek to cheek with the older man, “Well, lemme see” he says, already pulling the phone from Rhett’s grasp.

Link, instead of pressing the phone to his nose to try and read it, holds it at a much more readable distance.

“It’s from Stevie, our meeting was changed from 1:00 to 2:00.” He reads, scanning the email pulled up on the screen.

“Oh, that makes more sense.”

“More sense than?” Link prompts, handing the phone back to Rhett.

“I thought it said something about meal times being charged,” Rhett admits, brows furrowed.

“What the crap? How did you get that out of this?”

Rhett simply shrugs, leaning back into the couch, legs spread so his knee rested against his glassesed half. A second or two passes before Link, who was speaking much too fast, begins rambling about their next project, the moment all but forgotten.

And Link wouldn’t have thought anything of it, Rhett could have been tired, they were working a lot of hours between trying to finish the book and keep up with good mythical morning. He knows when Rhett gets tired his eyes get all bleary and he can barely see a thing. But he actually functions, minus the whole no eye site thing, relatively well on no sleep (whereas the shorter, grayer, of the two, was essentially dead weight on no sleep). Or maybe the font was just too small. Or the sun that spilled in through the window basking the room in an orange hue had created a glare on his screen.

These were all reasonable explanations; it could have been any one of them.

Except that it happened again.

The next time it happens, neither of those reasons has a leg to stand on. Rhett isn’t tired, because it’s one of the rare occasions, the two have a day off. They are spending it together, wrapped up in blankets on the couch watching movies. Rhett wanted to watch something scary, had basically _begged_ Link to put on the newest chapter of Stephan King’s It. Link had protested, listing all the reasons why it was a bad idea and bringing up his hatred for horror movies multiple times in his argument, but here they were. A bowl of popcorn between them and a couple of Coke’s on the coffee table as a clown terrorized children on the screen.

And now the room is dark, lights off, and curtains are drawn to ‘create the right atmosphere’ Rhett had explained. So, it can’t be the light either.

The next scene, violent and bloody, has Link jumping in his seat, his face automatically pressing into Rhett’s shoulder.

“Crap, tell me when it’s over” Link groans, his stomach turning at the sight of blood, _whether it’s real or not._

Rhett’s hand automatically rests in Link’s hair, fingers running through the salt and pepper strands and blunt nails massaging patterns into the younger man's scalp in a comforting gesture.

“Uh sure,” Rhett replies, shifting forward in the seat and squinting his already narrowed eyes.

A moment or two passes and then another, before:

“Is it over?” The shorter man asks, voice muffled and peaking with curiosity.

His fingers had moved to tangle in the loose fabric at Rhett’s middle, fingers toying with the graphic t-shirt. His digits curling whenever a scream or the gurgle of a monster would emit from the television.

“I think so?” Rhett says, leaning forward even more.

“You think?”

“Yeah, I think that-“ Rhett stops, caught off by Link’s head sliding from his shoulder and onto his lap when he leans a little too far.

Link looks up at him, his normally quaffed hair falling loosely on his forehead, “I guess this is okay too,” he says, a soft smile on his lips.

Rhett looks down, smiling too, “Sorry about that,” he starts, fingers moving back into Link’s hair “I musta leaned to close to the tv”

Link, eyes now closed in contentment, instead of fear, as he leans into the touch, manages to crack one eye open and reply: “Whatcha leaning for, anyways?”

“Trying to see the damn thing”

Link pauses then, eyes both open now and flickering over to the tv that’s only a couple of feet away and his brain flashes back to earlier in the week.

“You can’t see that?” He questions, disbelief colouring his words.

“Well,” Rhett says, fingers stilling in Link’s hair, “I can’t it’s just, sort of...blurry. I can’t really make out the details.”

Link sits up now but doesn’t move very far away, his face close to the other mans and his body practically in his lap. Rhett’s hand falls from his hair and lays beside the pair.

“Has it been like this for a while? Is that what happened with your phone the other day?”

Rhett just shrugs, looking away and slumping back against the couch.

“Cmon, you can tell me,” Link encourages, smiling as his fingers inch towards Rhett’s hand until they are intertwined.

Rhett looks down at their hands and smiles, something he always does like he’s always grateful for the contact or for Link _or for both_. He even remembers, in the worst fight they’ve ever had, Link had reached for his hand, _which he pulled away from at first_ , but Link grabbed it anyway, _just for a moment, to reassure him that he was still there, still loved him_ , and he couldn’t help but smile fondly at their grasped hands, no matter the situation. 

“Yeah, I guess so, for about a month shit has been blurry and unfocused. I have to hold my phone really close or really far to figure out what the hell it says.”

Link already knows where this conversation is going, knows from personal experience, albeit from many years previous.

But he also knows how Rhett’s going to take it.

He’s going to deny it at first, hence why it’s been weeks since he’s even said anything.

Then he’s going to be mad, might even take it out on Link, _until he calms down and apologizes profusely_.

Then he’ll be upset, this one won’t be so obvious to others, but it _always_ is to Link. He’ll be quiet, unusually so, and when Link presses him for what’s wrong he’ll shrug and leave it at that.

Eventually, he’ll talk to Link and the greying man will do his best to make the other feel better, which usually works.

And finally, Rhett will give in and accept, whatever it is. He’ll talk to Link and everything will be okay in the end, because they have each other and they always have. _Always will_.

Link likes to call it _The_ _5 Stages of Rhett_. Although he would never tell him that.

“Rhett,” Link starts, broaching the subject carefully, thumb running along the ridges of Rhett’s hand comfortingly. “I think you might need glasses or at least need to make an appointment to see the eye doctor.”

Rhett scowls at this, face twisting and hand jerking back like he thinks about letting go of Link’s but decides against it.

“I don’t need glasses,” he says, voice firm.

“It’s not a big deal, I have ‘em” Link replies, knowing this is exactly how things would go.

“Yeah, but, that’s different, bo” Rhett sighs this time, big and airy in an over-exaggerated fashion.

“How?” Link asks, slightly confused as to the bearded man's hesitation. He knew this is how he would react, but that doesn’t mean he understands why.

Rhett doesn’t want to say it. Not because he thinks Link will judge him, he _never_ has in all their years and he trusts him above everyone else, but because he feels stupid. He knows it’s nothing to be concerned about and it’s so superficial he feels like a moron. But he can’t help it.

He doesn’t want to feel _old_.

It didn’t feel like that long ago when Link, with bright eyes, floppy hair, and a crooked grin and himself, still just as tall but much skinner and with much less impressive facial hair, were in college fooling around. Still too shy to even _hold hands_ in public.

And Rhett looks at Link now with the same wild eyes, hair now greying, and his smile just as crooked and all he can see is the _boy_ he fell in love with all those years ago. The boy who, despite the numerous times Rhett pushed him away and gave him every reason to leave, _never did_. The boy who loved him fiercely, who was the first to take a leap and just kiss the other boy, mid-sentence, when he couldn’t take it anymore.

Link despite all the changes he’s gone through over the years because even his hair has changed drastically still looks like the sweet blue-eyed boy that Rhett fell for. That he experimented with in college under the covers in the dark. That he was too scared to even admit to _himself_ , let alone say out loud, how much he _loved_ the quirky boy.

He wonders what Link sees when he looks at him. Does he see the wrinkles around his eyes and lines by his mouth from years of laughing with his best friend, _his soulmate_. Does he see the slight roundness his stomach has taken since he hit the big 4-0, that no matter how many times he goes to the gym or how many salads he eats, he just can’t seem to get rid of it?

If Link could read Rhett’s mind (and despite everything that says the contrary, he actually can’t) he would tell him all he could see was the beautiful man he loves. He sees the _boy_ he met in first grade. He sees the _teenager_ who insisted that two lead singers in a band were totally fine, revolutionary even. He sees the _young man_ who finally admitted his feelings for him, as hard as it was. He sees the _man_ who promised to cherish him forever, to love him through the good and the bad. He sees the _man_ he is going to grow old with. _He sees the man he loves and wouldn’t change a thing about._

When Rhett doesn’t say anything further, Link decides to let it go for now. Instead, choosing to snuggle back into his lap, keeping their hands intertwined and hugging them to his chest. When a particularly scary part comes up (which is basically every part, for Link) he makes the _cutest_ noise, in Rhett’s opinion which is not at all _bias_ and turns to press his head into the green-eyed man’s stomach.

Rhett, who really did want to watch the movie, can’t seem to find it in himself to take his eyes off his _partner_. Watching the way his eyes squeeze shut and he snuggles into him, trusting Rhett to keep him safe as he’s always done. Perhaps, Rhett doesn’t even really _like_ scary movies that much. Maybe he just likes watching them with Link.

A minute or two passes, then almost an hour, before Rhett breaks the silence. His voice is soft, almost drowned out by the scenes on the television. But Link hears it just fine, almost like his ears are attuned to the frequency of Rhett’s voice, _like he could find it anywhere_.

“I don’t wanna be old,” Rhett states. It’s a fact, simple as that, and completely _true_.

Link frowns, his brain taking a moment to switch gears and catch up to what Rhett is talking about.

“You’re not old, bo, not even close.” Link starts gently knowing how hard it was for Rhett to even open up about this. “Glasses don’t have anything with being old and just for the record you would look incredibly handsome in them”

Rhett smiles slightly, he has to admit hearing that does make him feel a _bit_ better.

“I used to see fine, Link, now I can’t. You can’t tell me that’s not because I’m getting old?” Rhett insists, unable to ignore the nagging feeling deep inside.

“With all the time we spend staring at screens and phones, I’m sure it doesn’t. My prescription has increased too. It’s just part of the gig, _baby_ ” Link reassures.

Rhett seems to chew on this thought for a moment and wraps his arms around Link, bringing him in for a kiss, before letting him go again but still keeping him close.

“Mkay, bo. Let’s watch the movie,” Rhett says, wanted to enjoy their day off.

“Do we have to?” Link whines, the horrors of Stephen King creeping back into his mind.

Rhett only laughs and pulls Link closer.

It’s a couple of weeks later when Rhett walks into the office. He left on his lunch, _without Link_ , and had come back late. Which, although it’s normal for Rhett to be late it’s not as common for him and Link to take separate lunches. He simply said he had an appointment before he ran out the door.

When he enters the office, Link and the other crew members waiting patiently for him, his hair is quaffed perfectly (just as it was when he left), and he’s wearing the same fitted jeans and print button up. But now, a pair of glasses sit perched atop his nose.

“Sorry I’m late,” Rhett apologizes, sliding in beside Link and kissing his cheek.

Link, at this point, is smiling so wide he’s worried his face might split into two. And he’s weirdly incredibly _proud_ of Rhett.

“God, you look hot,” Link blurts out, as he often does, his cheeks tinting red as he realizes what he just said.

The crew laughs, so does Rhett and eventually, Link does too. The meeting begins and Stevie starts talking about ideas for the next GMM.

But Link still has one thing on his mind and can’t help but share it with Rhett.

“Hey,” he starts, leaning into the taller one and placing his hand on his knee “I’m glad you went and got them. They look really, _really_ good too if you hadn’t already got that from my outburst.”

“Oh, I got it,” Rhett chuckles. 

“Proud of you, bo,” Link finishes, pressing his lips to the stubble on Rhett’s jaw and squeezing his knee affectionately.

Rhett smiles, leaning into his touch, and placing his hand atop Link’s. Their matching rings glitter in the light streaming in through the picture window across from them as their fingers interlock.

Rhett thinks, maybe getting old isn’t so _bad_ , since he gets to spend his life with his best friend, the love of his life, his _soulmate_. And to have more than 40 years of that already is nothing to be upset about, especially when there’s at least another 40 _more_ to be had.

**Author's Note:**

> A sappy, sweet ending which is rare for me. Let me know what you think! :)


End file.
